


My someplace is here

by benebitchcumber (basicallyg)



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-29
Updated: 2020-01-29
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:53:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22469680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/basicallyg/pseuds/benebitchcumber
Summary: John has a bad day. Sherlock is always there.
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes & John Watson, Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Comments: 11
Kudos: 55





	My someplace is here

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! This is my first Johnlock fic :)
> 
> Kudos and comments are always appreciated.
> 
> Thank you for reading and for being always so amazing :)
> 
> gim-

John huffed while stepping out of the surgery and hailing a taxi to go home as quickly as possible. The Friday he had was by far one of the worst since he moved back to London. And that was saying a lot. He lived with Sherlock Holmes, for crying out loud.

Sherlock. He was probably bored, hands deep in an experiment or sleeping off the last case they finished two days ago. John just wanted to arrive home and be in silence for at least a week.

He opened the door at 221B and found his boyfriend lying down at the sofa, drinking tea and screaming at the telly. John got closer, kissed his lips and went for the shower.

“Are you okay?” Sherlock asked through the door.

John just hummed and heard the detective retreat his footsteps. He knew better than press John for an answer.

He came out of the bathroom and went for the fridge to carry some cold take out to his room. John noticed Sherlock observing him from his spot at the sofa like he was a newfound mistery. He sighed.

“You don’t mind if I stay at mine’s tonight?” He said.

“Not at all, you can have all the space you need.” Didn’t seem too unsure but well, when does Sherlock Holmes looks like it?

“Okay, it’s just that I had a bad day and I don’t want to take it all on you.” He started, but Sherlock interrupted him.

“You don’t have to explain yourself to me. Go enjoy your peace.” He said, his smile small but genuine.

John really wanted to believe Sherlock was being understanding, but the heavy rain, the bad patients, his roaring stomach and the seldom fear of not being enough for a great mind like his, took the best of him. He turned from the first step of the stairs and went back to the living room.

“You don’t care, do you?” He said, his fist closing at his side, trying to mantain his voice normal.

“Pardon?”

“You just don’t care if I decide to be here or not! You’re fine either way!”

“What makes you think that? I’m respecting your wishes John.”

“And with that, you’re set to do whatever you want without me buggering you all the time, right?”

Sherlock looked at him fixatedly, as he was studying him, like that first time they had dinner at Angelo’s. John’s chest relaxed a bit at the thought of him being the only puzzle his genius boyfriend was unable to resolve at the blink of an eye. Even after years of friendship and a few months of dating, the fact that he could still surprise him, settled nicely in his chest.

Finally, Sherlock spoke. “That is not true, Watson and you know it. All you asked was privacy and space and I conceded because that is your wish and I am nobody to tie you here with me or anybody else when you need to breathe on your own.” His gaze softened before continuing, “I’ll still be here if you need me later, that certainly isn’t going to change.”

John let out a large sigh and apologised. He knew that being called ‘Watson’ by Sherlock was a thing, because it was always part of a statement that carried the deepest truths in the detective’s inside. “I’m sorry. Said I didn’t want to take my horrible day’s weight on you and look what I’m doing. I don’t want you to be mad at me, okay? I just need to be with myself now.”

“That’s alright John, take what you need, I’ll be here.” His voice, like everytime it was directed at him, had that softer tone. John knew it was all good.

“Goodnight, Sherlock.”

“Goodnight, dear Watson.”

—

Sherlock’s phone started ringing right after he finished the first chapter of his Solar System book. It was undoubtedly John.

“Hello.” He said, amused.

“What are you doing?” John’s voice sounded unused.

“As every Friday since we started kissing on an hourly basis, drink white wine and read while listening to old music.”

“Thought you’d be experimenting with something.”

“Don’t feel like it.”

“Glad you’re having a good time there.” John smiled through the phone.

“I still have something I long for, though.”

“Yeah? What’s that?”

“Make your deductions, John,” Sherlock talked in his detective voice. “Since that first Friday you kissed me by accident and I reciprocated, we rejected a case or the visit of any other being who’s not us two in favour of having a good Friday night for us only. I started reading again and enjoying your weird 80’s playlists. Learned so much about you and Maddonna and sang ‘Material Girl’ to you, drunk as I was.” He sighed, remembering his embarrassing episode. “Today, I’m learning about the Solar System and nobody’s here to interrupt me with the recap of the book they’re reading or to change the music when I don’t like it. See? The only thing that’s here permanently in my routine is you, John Hamish. And your company is my pleasure.”

“I love you.” John’s voice was heard from the door of the living room, his phone in his hand and the call still connected.

Sherlock blinked several times and stood up. With one hand, took John by the neck and put his forehead against his own chest. The other, slowly grabbed John’s arm, while he kissed the crown of his head.

After a big sigh, Sherlock’s voice was heard soft and with the hint of a smile. “I love you too, Watson.”


End file.
